


Digging for Stones

by Raven (Temaris)



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Gardening, Gen, Kid Fic, Little Britches (OW), Magnificent Seven AU: Little Britches (OW), Making a mess, Old West
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-23
Updated: 2003-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-26 13:39:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/283813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Temaris/pseuds/Raven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angst- and drama-free fluff set in a bizarrely domestic Old West ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Digging for Stones

**Author's Note:**

> With many thanks to Charlotte for reviewing, editing and removing all those Anglicisms that crept in. All bar one *g*. Thank you!

"Buck? Buck? Can I help?" JD bounced up to his foster father and stared up at him. Buck turned and smiled at the small boy. JD seemed to have an endless store of energy, topped only by the astonishing ability to fall asleep anywhere, without a word of warning. He leaned on his shovel and wiped at his forehead with his sleeve. It was a cool, clear fall morning. Soon enough the sun would scorch down on them, but in the meantime, he had work to do. Backbreaking work at that.

"Hey, boy." He rubbed at JD's hair, forcing the boy to drag it out of his eyes again. He'd have to insist on a hair cut soon; the child was getting worse than one of those fancy lapdogs. But Vin didn't want his hair cut, and anything Vin wanted, JD wanted, and JD had these big brown eyes, and... He shook his head. It was enough to make you wish the child would come down with a fever, so he could insist on haircuts all round for medical reasons. Wasn't the only infectious thing either. He grinned faintly as he thought of his partner, whose hair seemed to be getting unnaturally long too, and the image of hustling all three reluctant males to the barber's for a thorough shearing.

"Can I help?"

Buck looked at him dubiously, then back at the kitchen garden. He was digging it over for the winter. The year's manure and compost had rotted down enough to dig in, put some life back in the soil ready for planting. The work was necessary, but the stuff was rank, and the last thing he wanted was JD anywhere near it. He looked back at the boy, all bright eyed and eager.

"Have you done your chores?"

"Yup! I fed the hens, and Vin'n'Chris'n'me fed the horses, and Chris'n'me milked Loopy, an' we got fifteen eggs, but I broke one 'cause Susie bit me, and I tidied my bed, and my toys are all neat, and I did my spellings for Mrs Travis, twice, 'cause Vin dropped water on my slate and rubbed them out, and--"

Buck put a hand up. "Stop right there." He could see why Chris had turfed the boy out before starting in on the household chores. He eyed the area thoughtfully. "Okay. Don't move." He headed off toward the tool shed, then looked back over his shoulder. JD was watching him with an interest that he knew only too well would wane moments after he went out of sight. He glanced at the heap of compost waiting by the patch and changed his mind. "On second thoughts, you can help me move some things."

"Yeah!" JD cheered, and ran up to Buck, one hand slipping confidently into Buck's large fist. He had to take three steps to each of Buck's, but it didn't seem to trouble him in the slightest as he trotted along, swinging Buck's hand.

"What are we getting, Buck?"

"Some buckets."

"Oh. Are we getting big buckets or little buckets?"

"The biggest ones we have," Buck said patiently. "Let me get the--" JD hopped up onto a conveniently placed stump, grabbed the latch and jumped. The latch thumped open, and suddenly Buck understood the cracks in the one on the door into the ranch house.

"I got it!" JD said, pleased as punch, and Buck laughed, ruffling his hair.

"You sure did. Good thinking, short stuff." JD dived in through the open door eagerly. The shed was a cave of wonders to the two boys. They weren't allowed into the shed without one of the adults to make sure that the big scythes, sharp knives and heavy tools were kept well away from them.

"JD!" Buck said sharply, and ran a hand over his mouth to hide his grin. JD's shoulders slumped dramatically, and the boy sighed enormously.

"I wasn't doing nothing, Buck," the five year old said with the much tried patience of a man thirty years his elder. In fact, the look on his face -- exasperation mingled with indignation looked vaguely familiar, though he couldn't think why.

It crossed his mind briefly that Larabee might be able to explain it, then dismissed the thought swiftly.

"Good. Because you ain't ta mess around in the -- are you listening to me, boy?"

JD nodded with a guilty start, tucking his hands behind his back and pretending a total lack of interest in the scythe hanging from the wall.

Buck sighed, and unhooked one of the old feed pails from where it was hanging from the beams across the roof of the shed. "Take this back to the truck patch --and don't run!" he yelled after the boy, but the child was out the door and gone before he got the words out. The running feet were briefly interrupted by a clatter and thud. He waited but there was no howl of pain, instead the feet started again, slower and more careful, the pail clanging loudly. He rolled his eyes and pulled a second pail down, this one without holes in. After a moment's thought he put a third, smaller pail inside the larger, and walked back to the garden.

JD had turned his bucket upside-down, and was sitting on it. He'd placed it on the freshly turned earth, so the edges of the pail were slowly sinking into the uneven soil, packing it back down again, and leaving JD tilted at a precarious angle. He showed no signs of discomfort however, his chin in his hands, staring at Buck as he made his way back to the small boy.

"I got here *hours* ago," JD announced with a sigh, and Buck frowned at him. "Nearly hours,&quot he amended, and looked up piteously through dark lashes in a way that still tugged at Buck's heartstrings even though he *knew* it was deliberate. "I got here first and you took *ages*."

"I was carrying two pails, because *you*, little gadabout, didn't wait when I told you."

"Didn't tell me to wait," JD murmured, peeking through long lashes at Buck to see how this was taken.

"Did you just talk back, boy?"

JD shook his head mutely, ducking so all Buck could see was the top of the small head.

"You know what happens to small boys who back talk their elders and betters?"

JD huddled smaller and shook his head.

"They get *tickled*," Buck pounced. After a frozen moment when he thought the child was going to panic JD squirmed desperately, giggling and trying to get away from Buck's long fingers. He slid sideways off the pail into the loose earth and scooted along on his bottom until Buck grabbed him by a foot and lifted him up into the air. Buck stood and JD twisted trying to reach Buck's arm where it was holding him, until the child was clinging onto his arm, curled up like a sloth hanging from a branch, laughing merrily.

Buck swung him to and fro then pretended to drop him, "You're too heavy for this," he joked, and slumped to the ground. JD unwound himself and stood, peering at him anxiously, then began patting his face. "Wake up, silly. You can't go to sleep! We got stuff to do!"

Buck grinned and, eyes still closed, wrapped his arms around the small boy. "We sure do, little bit," he agreed. Two sharp elbows dug into his chest and he opened his eyes to find JD staring sternly down at him, chin propped on his hands.

"Stop messin' 'round, Buck," he said firmly, and with a rumble of laughter, the man sat up, bringing the boy up with him.

"You want to go get the little pail out the big one, and go fill it half up with water?"

"Okay." JD bounced to his feet, briefly winding Buck, and scampered off.

Buck shook his head and rolled to his feet, dusting himself down of the worst of the clods of earth. He could feel some had fallen down his collar and were probably rubbing themselves into his skin. He'd need a good scrubbing in the bath before he could go courting Miss Blossom again.

He eyed the garden thoughtfully. It wasn't big. He and Chris had agreed some time ago that they would need to use every square inch they could to bring up food for the table now that they had two extra mouths to feed. For all that they were small mouths, they needed feeding up. Vin for one was thin as a rake, and JD despite his rounded, angelic face had ribs and backbone showing clearly each time they washed him in the old wash tub. Maybe he should dig out another few feet while he was at it.

If they could manage it, they'd need another cow next year. Maybe get a heifer in the spring and get Mr. Owens' bull to cover her. Growing boys needed milk, and any extra they could sell to Mrs. Potter, maybe barter it with Mrs. Travis for a pat of butter. He frowned, yeah, that could work. Though he did have a moments misgiving -- would Miz Travis know how to churn up butter, being a lady and all?

He shrugged; he could only ask. Or better yet, and a gleam lit his eyes, making his face as mischievous as JD's could be, get Chris to ask. After all, the young widow had set her cap at him...

"JD? Where are you, boy?"

"Comin' Buck," JD appeared, staggering along with water sloshing out at every step. "I'm coming," he repeated breathlessly and Buck sighed silently.

"JD, I thought I told you *half* full."

JD staggered the last few steps, the water slopping at the edges but not over them and looked up with a proud grin. "It *is* half full, Buck."

Buck looked in and couldn't help but laugh. Sure enough the bucket was almost exactly half full.

"I thought if I lost some water it wouldn't matter, so I filled it right up, and look, it's exackerly right." JD scowled at Buck. "Don't *laugh*."

"Can't help it, boy, you're too much fun to keep a straight face. You sure did bring me half a bucket of water." Never mind that he would have been happier with a quarter bucket and no splashing all over JD's work pants. The boy meant well -- and he was half impressed by the child's reasoning. "Now, I'm going to keep on turning over the truck patch, right?"

"Do you want me to water it?"

"No!" Buck said urgently before the bucket was more than half tipped. JD lowered it and looked up expectantly. "No," he repeated more calmly. "When I dig up a stone, I'm going to put it in the big bucket," he scooped out one from the ground and tossed it in underarm with a dull thud, the mud on it muffling the sound as it hit the metal. "And then you are going to scrub the stones with a nail brush," he produced the old one they kept in the shed for cleaning tools and dropped it in the water bucket, "and put the clean stones in the other big pail. Okay?"

JD looked from the patch to the first bucket, to the second, to the third and then back at Buck. "Why?"

"Because I want the stones clean."

"Why do you want the stones clean?"

"So I can put them around the kitchen garden."

"Oh." JD eyed the muddy expanse. "Buck?"

"Yes?"

"Why'd you want to put the stones back on the ground again? They's jus' gonna get dirty."

Buck hesitated. For a moment, the child logic made more sense than his own, and he wondered himself. Then he shook himself. "Because I want to be able to see them, and I can't if they're all muddy, all right?"

"Buck?"

"JD, no more questions!" He picked up the fork and headed back onto the garden. "You just get and clean those stones, okay?"

"Okay," JD said equably, and squatted next to the water bucket. He grabbed his lone dirty stone, scrubbed it vigorously, and dropped it into the 'clean' bucket. There was a ringing clang, and JD looked into the 'dirty' pail. Another stone had appeared. He looked thoughtfully at Buck, who was smiling into space as he dug into the soil again, humming. There was a clunk as the fork hit a rock, and Buck shifted, worked it deeper then twisted. A huge clod turned over and JD could see lots of stones. Lots and lots of stones. He looked at the two big buckets dolefully.

"Better get washing, boy, them stones ain't going anywhere by themselves," Buck called cheerfully as he accurately lobbed five stones in quick succession.

A couple of hours later the 'clean' bucket was half full and the 'dirty' bucket was half empty. And the patch of ground where JD was squatting on his heels had turned into a quagmire of no mean size.

"Can I get more water, Buck?" JD said, staring into the brown scummy water.

Buck straightened with a grunt, leaning on the fork briefly. He'd turned over about three quarters of the patch, forking in the fertilizer as he went, and his back ached.

"I was made to ride the wide prairie, not scratch around in the dirt," he muttered to himself.

"What?"

"Pardon, not what," he said automatically and blinked. Clearly his mother's ceaseless efforts at making him behave at least *somewhat* like a man of some refinement had rubbed off despite his best efforts.

"Pardon?"

"Nothin', boy. Now, what do you want?"

"More water. Look!" He tilted the pail towards Buck. There was barely two inches of water left, and it had more the consistency of mud soup than water.

"I see what you mean." He rammed the fork into the ground firmly, and held out a hand to JD. The kid stood and scowled.

"What's wrong?"

"Legs squished." He waggled one, then the other. "Ow! Ow, ow ow!"

"Pins and needles?"

"Ow!" He hopped from one foot to the other, clutching Buck's hand for balance. A moment later he stopped, grabbed the pail and was trying to run towards the well. "Come *on*, Buck," he called over his shoulder, leaning at a considerable angle in his effort to make the big man move. Buck chuckled, and walked as slowly as he could until JD fell over, then scooped the kid up and hugged him, pail, mud and all.

"I'll get the water. Why don't you go ask Chris for a cup, and we'll have some to drink too."

"Okay!" JD wriggled madly until he escaped Buck's grip and slid down the long body, and was off.

"Don't go inside the house!" he called after him, in a sudden guilty thought for the clean kitchen.

"Chris! Chris!" JD bounced up the steps yelling, and to Buck's relief Larabee appeared at the door before the child could trek mud into the house and put a firm hand on his chest.

"Whoa there." Chris smiled at JD, who grinned back, teeth white against the mud spattered hands, face and clothes. He picked JD up, hands under the boy's armpits, and held him out at arms length. "What've we got here? A mudlark?"

JD giggled and wiped his hands on Chris's arms, then reached up as though to hug him.

"Oh no you don't," Chris said sternly and JD stopped. "What are you doing over here, mudlark?" He lowered JD to the ground and bent to look him in the eyes.

"Buck says can we have a cup 'cause we want a drink."

"Please!" Buck called, reminding him of his manners.

"Please?" JD smiled sweetly up at Chris who ruffled the dark hair, then looked ruefully at his hand.

"You stay right there, son," he pointed at the porch and JD nodded obediently. "And don't come into the house, okay? Not for any reason until we've got those clothes off of you."

"Okay," JD said cheerfully, and dropped to the ground cross legged with a big sigh.

When Chris came back JD was engrossed in hopping from one end of the formerly clean porch to the other. A neat line of right foot prints went one way up the porch, and a neat line of left ones back, marred by the occasional smear where presumably the child had fallen on his back side, and here and there, little muddy hand prints. He closed his eyes and shook with silent mirth. Sarah would have had a cow.

"Hey, you," he called and JD spun, staggered, and added more handprints to the porch rail. "Cups and a slice of apple pie for each of you."

He was rewarded with an enormous grin as the boy bounced up towards him.

"When's Vin comin'?"

"What do you say?"

"Thank you, Chris. When's Vin coming?" JD persisted.

Vin was inside finishing a round of punishment chores assigned for putting salt in the sugar at breakfast that morning. Chris shook his head sternly.

"He'll be out when I say he's finished, understand?" He raised his voice on the last words and two voices answered,

"Yes, Chris," as glumly as though he had sentenced Vin to a thousand years in the salt mines, and thrown away the key. Chris rubbed a hand over his mouth to hide his grin and held out the cups and plate.

"You want these or not, John Daniel?"

"Yessir." JD hooked two fingers through the handles and then held the plate carefully in both hands. Chris allowed himself a smile as JD moved down the steps off the porch one step at a time and then walked slowly and carefully over towards Buck, bottom lip gripped between his teeth. JD might run around madly most of the time, but give him food and he was as careful as anyone could wish. Perhaps too much so. His face darkened. No child should know so instinctively that food wasted meant going hungry.

A rustle at the door had him turning, and Vin froze, his hands whipping behind his back, his eyes wide and innocent. Chris sighed and held out a hand. Their eyes held for a long moment, and then Vin's dropped and he slowly brought his hands round and dropped what he had been holding into Chris's outstretched hand -- then turned on his heel and ran.

Chris yelled as the frog jumped from his hand towards his chest and landed on the floor when he took a hasty step backwards, then sprinted after his boy. "Vincent Michael Tanner!"

He could hear Vin's peals of laughter as he ran through the small house after him, and grinned. He nearly cornered him in the bedroom but Vin scrambled between his legs to freedom. He ran after him as the kid headed straight for the newly turned over soil with an unerring instinct for maximum mess.

Buck appeared, a full pail of water in one hand, and called, "What did he do?" a huge smile on his face as he headed after the boy. He stopped briefly to put the pail down by the corral fence, safely out of the way, then joined the chase.

JD sat down on the ground in the middle of the yard and started on his slice of apple pie. He waved at Vin as he rushed past, and at Chris a moment later.

"Hi Vin, Hi Chris. Hi Buck."

"Hi JD," Vin called over his shoulder.

"Whatja do?"

"Found a frog." He yelped and skidded in the mud puddle JD had left by the buckets, and went flying, narrowly missing the remaining manure. He rolled onto his back just in time to see Chris take the same tumble -- and not miss.

Buck bit his lip hard as Chris got to his knees and turned, fixing each of them in turn with a hard stare. JD was staring, wide eyed, apple pie forgotten in his hand. He clapped his other hand over his mouth and his shoulders started jiggling, hazel eyes creasing with merriment. Vin was laughing in gasps, clutching at his stomach with one hand, and pointing helplessly at his foster-father with the other.

Buck gave in and let out a guffaw at the sight of Chris Larabee brushing rotted leaves, hay and worse from his formerly clean clothes. He backed away slowly as Larabee's eyes fixed on him. Vin got his feet under himself and scuttled away from the two tall men glaring at each other. He sat down next to JD who silently passed him the slice of apple pie intended for Buck. It had a neat crescent bitten out of it, which to Vin's way of thinking just indicated that he'd better eat it fast before JD changed his mind.

"They gonna draw?" JD asked around another mouthful of apple pie. He was now nibbling along the crust edge, trying to get the last little bits of apple out. "They c'n shoot each other, bang! Bang!"

"Maybe."

"Bet Buck wins."

"Bet Chris does."

"Chris ain't got his guns," JD pointed out practically. Vin nodded and swallowed, then pointed at Chris's right hand, half concealed behind his back.

"Yeah, but he's got sump'in worse'n guns."

"Errrrr, yuck," JD wrinkled his nose as he figured out what Chris was holding. "You gonna eat that?" He eyed the pie, which disappeared with more speed than elegance into Vin's mouth, crammed in so firmly he couldn't quite close his mouth, shedding crumbs as he chewed.

"Buck, look out!" JD yelled helpfully. Buck's head turned to look at JD, then, as if in slow motion, his head snapped back to Larabee, who was already moving, his arm swinging in a fine overarm pass, the missile breaking up in flight but staying squarely on trajectory for the middle of Buck's chest, where it impacted with a wet thud.

JD's "Uh oh," was the only sound, then with a roar Buck launched himself at Chris, landing them both squarely in the mud. One of the buckets went flying and JD sighed.

"What's wrong?"

"That was the dirty ones. I hope they don't get the clean ones messy. I just cleaned 'em."

The two men wrestled for dominance, then Larabee flipped Buck onto his back, clean into the mud puddle.

JD shook his head, and Vin tutted loudly.

"What would your Ma's say if they could see ya," he said sadly.

"Messy puppies," JD agreed, leaning against Vin.

The two men froze, Larabee easing his grip where he had Wilmington pinned, and they looked at each other. Then, without so much as a nod, they sprang to their feet and ran for the two smug little boys, who leapt to their feet and ran screaming with laughter. Longer legs prevailed, and the two of them were tumbled into the mud as well. JD wasn't much dirtier than he had been already, but Vin, who had been the last relatively clean body among them ended up getting attacked by the other three until he was dirtier than any of them. Finally they were simply lying in the mud, winded, filthy, and still convulsing with periodic gusts of laughter.

"Good thing it's Saturday and the boys were due for a bath anyway," Buck said finally, hugging JD to him.

Larabee snorted and Buck turned his head to look at him.

"What?"

"You haven't thought this through, stud," Chris said with a smirk.

"Thought what through?"

"Baths. *Someone's* going to have to have a cold strip bath from the well before any of us can go into the house." Chris grinned at Vin. "And it isn't going to be me."

"Me! ME!" JD yelled, and both Chris and Buck collapsed into helpless laughter again, only too easily able to picture the small boy charging around the yard, blue jay naked as they ran after him trying to pour buckets of water over his wildly excited head.

"No."

"No!"

"Can I help?" Vin asked, a small but wicked grin on his face. He'd already figured out who that left.

"Sure," Chris grinned. He boosted Vin to his feet, and the boy trotted away towards the corral fence. Buck didn't make the connection until much too late.

Vin could hardly stand, he was giggling so hard, empty bucket in one hand.

"Well, boy," Buck rose to his full, soaking wet, six feet four, "you know what this means, don't you?"

Vin backed away, still giggling, and tripped over JD, who was trying to crawl away from his soaked father. The two boys tangled together long enough for Buck to scoop them both up and take them over to the well. He held them firmly as Chris dragged out a half barrel, then stood the boys in it, stripped them naked, and held them steadily while Chris drenched them -- and him with bucket after bucket of well water, until they were as clean as cold water and no soap could achieve. Buck carried one after the other up to the kitchen door and told them to go dry off and get dressed.

Buck looked over at the almost finished patch, and shrugged. "Best finish that up before the boys get into it again."

"Give me the shovel," Chris held a hand out. They made quick work of the last quarter, then headed back to the ominously quiet house.

"Age before beauty," Buck waved with a grand gesture at the barrel still full of muddy water.

Larabee stopped dead in his tracks and tilted his head at Buck. "Want to say that again, stud? Somewhere where I can make sure you ain't entitled to the name 'stud' no more."

"You stink."

"And you're already soaking. Better for your fragile health -- especially when you're so close to having a major operation..."

"You're just scared of what them boys is doing in there," he jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the house.

"And you aren't?"

The two men glared at each other for a long moment, and then declared a silent truce, and stripped swiftly down to their drawers. Buck was halfway clean anyway, after Chris's less than stellar aim while cleaning the boys, so he went first, gritting his teeth as he shivered, and then thoroughly enjoyed pouring buckets of icy water over Chris's unrepentant smirk.

Eventually they were all clean, and Chris and Buck gave up the day as a dead loss.

"We can get on with the rest another day," Buck smiled at JD and Vin, who were curled together in the rocking chair wearing their nightshirts, even though it was only lunchtime. "You two warm enough?" He tucked a blanket around them and ruffled damp hair.

He put some milk on to warm, and waited for Chris to emerge before heading into his own room to change into a new set of work clothes.

"Milk for the boys, warm them up some," he said briefly, when Chris appeared, warmly dressed and dry again.

Chris nodded. "Hey fellas," he called to the boys, "You want to stay like that or get dressed?"

JD snored enormously, then ruined the effect by collapsing into giggles.

"Well, sleepy boys oughta go to bed," he observed and made as if to pick them up.

"No!" Both children grabbed him and wrapped arms around his neck as they pulled him down.

"Buck! Help! I'm being attacked!"

Buck stuck his head out the door, and grinned. "I have every faith in you, pard," he said cheerfully, and retreated swiftly.

"Traitor," Chris said bitterly, and wormed his hands under the blankets until he found skin and started tickling.

Much, much later, after lunch and a long afternoon playing with the boys -- well away from the mud -- and a late supper, Buck sighed contentedly, sipping at his milky, lukewarm tea.

"If you'd told me any of this a year ago--" he started, gesturing at the room in general.

Chris nodded, his eyes on the two boys fast asleep, curled up in a heap together on the hearth rug, light and dark hair mingling. "Yeah," he said softly.

"Chris--"

Chris glanced at his friend. Buck looked unwontedly serious and Chris drew a deep breath. He could guess what he was going to say.

He looked back at the boys, and then into the fire. "Yeah," he said, agreeing to Buck's unspoken question. "Yeah. We'll talk to the judge when he's in town next."

Buck looked sharply at him. "You sure, pard? Ain't like a kitten. You can't change your mind on this, and you've been purely set agin--"

Chris smiled. It was a little wavery, but strengthened as he watched the boys. His boys. "Yeah. I'm sure." He met Buck's eyes steadily. "It won't hurt any less if we lose 'em and they ain't ours. And--" he hesitated, and Buck read his meaning in his face.

"Couldn't bear to lose 'em if we can prevent it."

"Yeah," he agreed again, softly.

"Ez thinks it'll be pretty straightforward. Josiah's got all the papers from the orphanage. The judge just needs to sign them into our care." He grimaced. "Government only cares if it has to take the boys back."

"One each, and name the other guardian," Chris said softly. "Need to make our wills as well. Make sure there's no chance they end up back at that place."

"Agreed."

Chris swallowed hard. "Agreed."

Buck leaned over, and they shook on it. Then they sat quietly, watching the children sleep, until the fire subsided to embers, and they too slept.


End file.
